Abby And The Gibbs
by Gunnery Sergeant
Summary: Holiday Season is the right time for a fable: the NCIS version of "Beauty And The Beast". We know Abby is curious and kind hearted, and because of this she is going to end in trouble, prisoner of a mysterious blue eyed creature with a sad past... GABBY!
1. Chapter 1

**Abby And The Gibbs**

**By Gunnery Sergeant**

_A NCIS retelling of "Beauty and the Beast", GABBY style._

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Abigail Scuito, simply Abby to her friends and colleagues, was an uncommon person; and not because her peculiar tastes in clothes, music and boyfriends. She was a scientist who wanted to believe there were things science couldn't explain. More, she was a scientist who wanted to scientifically prove there was something science couldn't explain.

That was why she was so fascinated by UFOs, vampires, superpowers, strange happenings. Heck, her master degree dissertation had been about SHC, Spontaneous Human Combustion, and she still remembered how most members of the commissions had reacted to that!

Abby was also very curious and that, coupled to her tendency to trust everyone, had put her in trouble more than once.

Mike Franks, her boss at NCIS, often said she was too curious and golden hearted for her own good, but Abby knew it wasn't something she could change.

"And also being curious helps the brain to stay young," she muttered, concluding the inner debate she had been having about the rightness or wrongness of what she planned to do.

Abby stared past the tall, rusty gate she was planning to climb and peered at the house she could barely see at the end of a long, slightly uphill driveway.

She stared up to the neglected house that had been the theatre of a romance for the ages, a series of family tragedies and, apparently, a mysterious disappearance.

Its name was Colebrook Manor and it was located on the edge of the suburbs, near Sister Rosita's nunnery.

As a matter of fact it had been the nun who told her, a few evenings before, about it and the story of the family who used to live there.

As they had walked past the gate returning to the nunnery after a bowling match, Sister Rosita had told Abby the house had been built in the early 1900's by Jeffrey Colebrook, a man who had made a fortune after discovering a diamond mine in Canada, after starting out as miner in the Pennsylvania coal county. A traditional family that had never forgotten their humble beginnings, the Colebrook's had been well-liked in the area.

"They were very nice people, Abby," Sister Rosita had said, as she had looked with a small smile at the deserted house. "Stanley, Jeffrey's son, had been a childhood friend of mine, despite being older than me. He was a very good man, but stubborn as a mule. We all found it quite funny when this trait of his was inherited by his youngest child, a red haired girl with a fiery temper. Stanley tried to tame her in every way he could think of. He even sent her to work for a summer in the small Pennsylvania town where his father had been born, but the plan backfired- spectacularly so."

The nun's smile had transformed into a grin, prompting Abby to ask, "How so?"

"Shannon was just sixteen when Stanley sent her to Stillwater. While she was there she met and fell in love with a local boy, a youngster of eighteen who had just enlisted in the Marines. And it wasn't a crush destined to last only a few months, it was real love on both parts. Stanley didn't take it well. He thought his daughter deserved more than that and did everything he could to break up the pair—he even threatened to disown Shannon. But the youths' devotion to each other never wavered, and they got married as soon as the groom was able to support his wife. Shannon went to live with her husband on the various Marine bases where he was stationed, and two years later they had a daughter."

Sister Rosita smiled, "Her birth was the last happy event for Stanley, because in the next few years he lost both his sons in freak accidents-- one in a train wreck, the other in a plane crash—and none of them had left heirs behind."

"Sounds a bit like the Kennedy's…" Abby had commented.

"More than you imagine…" Sister Rosita had sighed, before going on, "Alone in a far too big house and with no heirs to carry on the family company, Stanley turned to Shannon, and it was agreed that at the end of his current tour of duty, her husband Jethro would leave the Marines and join his father-in-law at the head of the Colebrook Mining Company. It was November 1990 and I remember Stanley was so happy because his remaining family had moved in with him. Sadly, happiness didn't last long. His son-in-law was deployed to the Middle East the following month and Shannon and Kelly followed him to Camp Pendleton to see him leave. Stanley would never see them again. While they were there, Shannon witnessed the murder of a Marine. She offered to testify against the killer and was put under protection. Alas, it wasn't enough: in February 1991, she and Kelly were killed, while Jethro was wounded in Kuwait."

"That's so sad," Abby had murmured.

"It is indeed. Jethro returned here a broken man, just in time to see Stanley die worn down by too many tragedies. He settled in the house and for a while lived there, almost like a hermit. And then one night – a dark and stormy night at it – Puff! He disappeared."

"Just like that?"

"Yes. One day he was there, walking in the garden, the next the house had been closed down. It was October 1991 and he hasn't been seen since."

"Weird," Abby had commented.

"I think he moved somewhere else, to a place not so filled with memories. I hope God granted him peace and allowed him to find happiness again."

Abby had been touched by Sister Rosita's story, feeling deeply for that unfortunate family. She had been intrigued by the disappearance of Shannon's husband and thus, two days after, she had used her skills and NCIS resources to discover what had happened to "Jethro", whose complete name had turned out to be Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

She had tracked down his military records, his school records, and his wedding certificate. She had found his only surviving relative – his elderly father – and some of the Marines he had served with. She had talked with them and the accounting firm that managed Colebrook Mining Company's business: none of them had heard from Gibbs since 1991. The accounting firm had just said that every year they received a letter that confirmed their standing as official representative and manager of the company, authorizing them to pay taxes and bills, but that was all. No money was ever withdrawn from the company's bank accounts and if it were not for those letters, always hand-delivered to the mailbox during the night, the firm would have suspected Mr. Gibbs had indeed died.

Abby had then investigated a bit around the house, talking with the closest neighbours and had learned something Sister Rosita, probably due to her religious beliefs, had not seen fit to tell her: it was rumoured Colebrook Manor was haunted.

People claimed roar-like noises had come from the building and that now and then a strange figure had been seen walking in the garden.

It hadn't been much, but it had been more than enough to stir Abby's desire to know more.

TBC

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I hope you'll enjoy this tale. Please let me know, OK? Reviews make me update faster.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to Kristenb15, autumngold and dolphinsiren77 for the reviews. :)

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That was why, on the Friday evening that preceded her two-week vacation, she was standing by Colebrook Manor's gate, determined to investigate the mystery of the strange noises and of Leroy Jethro Gibbs' disappearance. She wanted to see if there was enough evidence to open an official NCIS investigation. After all, the guy had been a Marine and, as Mike often said, once a Marine always a Marine—and Marines were NCIS' business.

Abby grabbed the bars of the gate and shook them to see how stable they were before trying to climb them. However, the climb turned out to be unnecessary because the gate opened. Not much, but enough to let her slip inside the property.

Grinning to herself, Abby shouldered her backpack and began to walk toward the house.

The driveway was very long, slightly uphill and in the past it must have been beautiful. Now instead, the trees which lined along its two sides needed to be trimmed or to be replaced, while tall weeds had spurted through the gravel-covered path.

Once near the house, Abby stared at the building. It was three stories high, massive and imposing, while still being elegant. As for the garden surrounding it, it must have been very nice in the past, but now the pale pink paint was faded and peeling, some shutters were cracked if not downright broken, and ivy had climbed along the whole left wing, covering walls and windows alike.

Abby took her flashlight and lock-picking set out of her backpack and climbed the five steps leading to the front door.

"Let's see if Mike's lessons paid off," she said as she bent to pick the lock, but the door creaked open as soon as she touched it.

Abby stared at it, hands on her hips. "If I didn't know better, I would think someone is waiting for me." _The mysterious figure seen by the neighbours, maybe,_ her mind thought.

Thrilled by that idea, she switched on the flashlight and stepped inside the house, into a large atrium. Straight in front of the door there was a large staircase in marble, which probably lead to the bedrooms and more private areas of the house. Each side of the atrium opened to several rooms which Abby decided to explore first.

She found she didn't need to use the flashlight to see because enough light filtered inside from the windows in the back of the building.

The first room on the right was a large salon almost devoid of furniture but for a few chairs and benches against the walls, a table with an old fashioned stereo on it and a small podium set in a corner.

"A ballroom," Abby guessed. "Cool."

The next room was labelled the 'trophies and smoking room', because of the animals heads hanging from the walls and the number of ashtrays scattered near leather several armchairs, and some low coffee tables. There was also a cabinet full of liquor bottles in a corner. As with the ballroom, everything was covered by a thick layer of dust, so much Abby felt almost the need to sneeze only looking at it.

The third room was a plush living room with an old TV-VCR set.

"And this is the music room," Abby commented as she stepped into the forth room, smaller than the others and housing just a piano and a table with several yellowed music scores piled on it. There was a framed photo over the piano top and Abby's curiosity was stirred by it, because it was the first personal item she had seen so far.

She was about to walk to the piano when, lowering her gaze, she saw the dust on the floor of this room had been recently disturbed. Someone had walked inside the room—someone or something, because the prints looked like that had been left by an animal's paws. A large animal too, far too big to be a dog.

Abby's eyes widened, "A bear or tiger in D.C., inside a mansion. Oh hinky!" She took her digital camera out of her backpack and snapped several photos of paw prints. She knew a guy who would be able to tell her what kind of animal they belonged to.

She then walked to the piano, and noticed its top and the lid covering the keyboard were scratched, the wood ruined by multiple, parallel marks.

Abby studied them carefully. They looked like marks left by claws, which added to the theory a large animal had been in that room…but what kind of animal? And was it still there?

She tensed her ears, but the house was completely silent, apart for the distant tic-toc of a pendulum clock. She let out a relieved sigh and focused on the object of her curiosity.

The silver frame bore the same marks as the piano, which prompted Abby to wonder what an animal had wanted to do with it… Had it tried to eat the photo? She studied the picture as she giggled at the idea.

It was a sort of family portrait. There was a little girl sitting at a piano, grinning brightly as she held a big trophy, while her proud parents – or so Abby guessed – stood smiling behind her. The mother had bright red hair, while the father was dressed in an USMC uniform, which prompted Abby to guess he was the elusive Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

She reached out to pick up the photo, wanting to look at those smiling faces more closely, when suddenly a voice echoed in the room.

"Don't touch it!"

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*evil laugh* Cliffhanger! And remember, reviews make me update faster!


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to **autumngold** (no, Gibbs is not keeping a tiger with him...This is a re-writing of "Beauty And the Beast", where Abby is our unconventional beauty and Gibbs...well, you get it), **Clueless Kim** (yeah, Gibbs is perfect for this 'role'), **kristenb15** (I think this is the only one) for their reviews.

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Abby startled and whirled around, her brain working frantically to find a plausible excuse to explain why she had trespassed into a private house. However, her words died on her lips what she saw to whom – or what-- the voice belonged.

Near the door and blocking the only way out, was the being that had probably left the paw prints and scratched the piano.

Its body looked like a bear's; massive, tall and covered in thick fur. The head looked more like a wolf's; with pointed ears, a prominent muzzle and barely visible fangs.

The being was standing on its hind legs, like a bear about to attack and the way it held his front legs, lowered by its sides, made her think of an angry posture; a very human posture of one balling their fists to prevent themselves from hitting someone.

"Who are you?" the creature spoke again, its voice sounding like a cross between a human male's voice and an animal's growl. It took a few steps forward and Abby was torn between the urge to back away and that something inside her which told her to hold her ground.

She listened to that inner voice and she soon found herself face to muzzle with that strange beast, staring into a pair of piercing blue eyes that looked completely human.

"My name's Abigail Scuito," she answered to the question, "but everyone calls me Abby. Well, almost everyone…Ducky calls me Abigail, Mike calls me Missy and Tony prefers Abs, but all the others call me Abby, so you can use it too…if you want, that is. And I didn't want to steal the photo, I swear. I just wanted to look at it."

"Why are you here?" the beast – was it really a beast?– demanded as his eyes moved up and down Abby, apparently studying her appearance.

"I'm…uhm… investigating the disappearance of the master of this house, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Have you ever heard of him?"

The beast's eyes narrowed upon hearing the name and it growled, "There is nothing to investigate and you shouldn't have entered. 'Cause now you're here I won't let you go. The doors and windows are now locked."

Abby almost smirked as she thought about the lock-picking set in her backpack. Mike had taught her well, and she was confident she would be able to get out of that house in no time.

The beast's eyes narrowed even more and with a blinding fast move it pulled at her backpack with such strength it made her stumble. The creature reached out to steady her with its other paw, but Abby pulled away roughly, and one of the beast's sharp claws scratched her.

The being let out a growl and said, "Keep your backpack. It doesn't matter what there is inside. You can sleep wherever you want and there is food in the kitchen. Make yourself at home, because you aren't gonna leave. This house is cursed. The gate and the door opened to let you in, but won't open again unless I want it—and I don't."

Speaking thus the beast dropped onto its four legs and walked away, leaving behind a completely stunned Abby.

**-----**

He entered in his room – the bedroom he had shared with Shannon when he was still human – and slammed the door shut.

He walked to the window and watched outside, trying to calm himself. He couldn't believe what he had just done.

In the past eighteen years many a people had tried to trespass inside the property, and he had chased all of them away by roaring and growling.

But this time, with this strangely dressed young woman, he hadn't done so. He had just observed her as she perused his house, following her with the same stealth that had made him such a good sniper in the Corps.

He had not planned to reveal his presence, but when she had reached out to touch Shannon and Kelly's photo – the only photo he had of them he could look at, because all the others were stored in albums or boxes he couldn't open with his paws – he hadn't be able to stop himself from reacting.

After that, there was no way he could let her go, not after she had seen and talked with him.

But it wasn't his only reason to keep her prisoner. There was another…

He was so tired to be alone with his thoughts and memories.

He was tired of a silent house where the only sounds were his growls and his cries.

He wanted, no needed, company and someone he could talk to.

He had no illusions that the curse imprisoning him could ever be broken. There was no way such an exotic creature as Abby could ever fall in love with…whatever…he was, but at least he would have someone to share his life with.

After eighteen years he was no longer alone.

He wasn't proud of himself but, thank God, he was no longer alone.

Abigail Scuito – Abby to most – was now with him.

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So, our blue-eyed beast has appeared. I hope you liked it. Let me know...and remember reviews make me update faster!


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to autumngold, Kristenb15, dolphinsiren77 for your great reviews. There were really appreciated.**

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The next morning Abby woke up feeling disoriented by the fact she was lying on a bed – not her coffin – in an unfamiliar room.

When her brain started working, she remembered where she was and what had happened to her. She was inside Colebrook Manor, prisoner of a strange creature who looked like a beast but talked like a man.

The previous evening, just after her "host" had gone away, Abby had rushed to the front door, but all her attempts to open it or pick the lock had failed. She had tried with the door opening onto the garden and with all the windows of the ground floor with no avail. She had even tried to break the glass of a window with a chair, but it had resisted the impact.

She then had tried to use her cell phone, only to discover it was completely dead, no signal and no power, despite having recharged it that very morning.

In the end Abby had accepted the fact she couldn't leave…unless the beast let her go. So her ever-practical mind had shifted in focus; she had stopped looking for a way to escape, and had begun to think of a way to convince her captor to let her go.

Knowing she did her best thinking with a full stomach, Abby had gone in search of the kitchen, locating it in the back of the house. There, in a fridge that bore the now familiar scratches left by the beast's claws, she had found a bowl of soup, salad, ham and a can of soda, plus a half eaten roasted turkey—the beast's meal, perhaps.

Abby had heated the food, eaten it, washed the dishes and then she had gone to the upper floor, looking for a place where she could sleep. She had found a single bed room with an adjoining bathroom that looked a bit cleaner than the others – a bit less dusty and with no spider-webs in the corners (she liked spider-webs only on tattoos) and then bunked there.

As she had lain on the bed, after locking the door and having put a chair under the handle, Abby had thought that despite her predicament she was quite thrilled. She had been looking for a mystery, for something science couldn't explain and, wow, had she gotten her wish!

What kind of being was her captor? A beast with human-like eyes; eyes that had flashed with remorse when the creature had scratched her and then with resolution, when it had said Abby couldn't leave. They were strange, beautiful, sad, blue eyes…

That had been her last thought before falling asleep. Now, fully awake, Abby rose from the bed and looked around the room as she decided what to do. Her eyebrow arched when, atop of the chair she had pulled against the door to block the handle, she saw a pile of clothes that most certainly had not been there the previous evening.

Woman's clothes, Goth clothes, the kind of things she would buy and wear. Who had put them there? And how? The door was still locked.

Abby frowned. The beast had said the house was cursed. Perhaps it was also magical… maybe the clothes had just appeared there.

"Hinky…" she breathed as she grabbed a red t-shirt, a black skirt and clean underwear and went to the adjoining bathroom to wash and dress.

Somehow it wasn't surprising to discover the clothes were exactly her size or to find a make-up kit complete with black lipstick in the cabinet by the sink.

_This house was really thoughtful_, Abby mused as she left her room to go to the kitchen.

As she ate breakfast – a bowl of cereal, milk, coffee, orange juice, a chocolate pastry that she had found waiting for her on the table – Abby sniffed the air in the kitchen. As she had stated once, the sense of smell was a perfectly acceptable tool to discover forensic evidence, and now her nose told her the beast had been in the kitchen only a few minutes before her arrival. His musky animal smell lingered in the room, and made her wriggle her nose. The smell was too strong, and she found it almost unbearable.

That gave her an idea, a good way to set the score straight with the beast. If Abby wanted to leave – and she wanted to – she needed to affirm her will, and show the creature she was not a poor maiden it could order around.

With a cunning smile, Abby ended her meal and rushed out of the kitchen to put her plan to work.

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What is she planning? Review and you'll know very soon! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you all for the kind reviews. Sorry I didn't reply privately as I usually do, but I spent the night coughing my lungs out and I've a pounding headache. I hope to be back in shape by tomorrow.**

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He moved silently along the corridors and noticed idly the house was a little less dusty than the previous day, as if it was trying to make Abby's stay a bit more comfortable.

It was almost midday and he had decided it was time to face his unwilling companion to see how she was doing.

He looked in all the ground floor rooms, and then walked upstairs. As he passed by the open door of his father-in-law's bedroom, his nose was assaulted by a scent he hadn't smelled in far too long. So long that he couldn't even remember what it was; just that he had smelled it before.

He walked inside Stanley's room and followed the scent trail to the large adjoining bathroom, where he realized the smell came from a tub which someone had filled with bubbling bath foam.

Was Abby planning to take a bath? Feeling embarrassed, he made to leave when the door behind him slammed closed and he heard the key turn in the lock.

Whirling around, he found himself face to face with Abby, who was holding the key in her hand, a triumphal smirk on her lips.

"Let me go out," he growled.

"I will—after you take a bath."

He stared at her confused. She wanted him to take a bath? Why? What purpose would it have? He was an animal, and animals didn't take baths.

"No. Give me the damn key," he ordered, closing on her and raising on his hind legs, using his size and build to try to intimidate her and bend her to his will.

Abby stretched out her hand, the key lying on her open palm, but there was no defeat or fear in her eyes. In fact, he was willing to bet she was… amused. Was she mocking him?

Growling in irritation, he reached for the key and closed his paw around it—or better, he tried to; because as much as he tried he couldn't do it. The key was too little, too thin for him and his big, often clumsy paws.

Roaring in rage, he raised his eyes from Abby's hand to her face and realized why she had been so amused. She had known he would not have been able to use the key.

"Will you now take a bath?" she said, arching an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Because, to be brutally honest, you stink," Abby wriggled her nose and grimaced in disgust. "You need to be clean if you want me to be in the same room with you. My nose is very sensitive."

He remained silent and still. He hadn't realized his smell could be repulsive to her. He had been alone for so long he had forgotten the most basic rules of politeness, and hygiene.

But he wasn't going to apologize for that—instead he was going to take the bath.

With a nod to Abby, he walked to the tub and used a paw to test the water. It wasn't too hot, and the scent rising from it reminded him of the baths he had shared with Shannon, baths once filled with laughs, whispers and breathy moans…

He cautiously stepped in the tub and lowered his body in an almost sitting position. Abby was at once at his side, pouring water over his back with an empty flower vase.

"I can wash myself," he snapped.

"I want to make sure you do it properly."

He growled again. Damn stubborn woman! He submitted unwillingly to her ministration, his body tense and ready to spring should she try to harm him.

But she didn't. Abby sat on the edge of the tub, soaping his fur, washing it, than rinsing it, her work methodical and precise.

"So..." she said after a while, "What should I call you? 'Hey you'? 'Big Hairy Thing'?"

"Call me what you want," he answered.

"Okay. I'll call you Leroy."

He stiffened as if he had been hit. Why had she chosen that name? Had she realized who he was…used to be?

"No. You won't call me that." It was a name that reminded him of a part of his life he had always tried to forget.

"Then what about Jethro?" Abby asked.

Looking into her green eyes he absolutely knew she was aware of whom he was. He also saw curiosity and wonder in her gaze, but not disgust or fear—and it stirred his hope, if only a little bit.

"I would prefer if you called me Gibbs," he answered, as he rose from the tub. Shannon had called him Jethro, and he was not ready to share that with another woman.

Abby reached out with a large towel, but before she could wrap it around him, he shook himself like a dog, sending water flying in every direction.

She laughed and clapped. He looked at her with surprise. What a strange woman she was! She could be all commanding one moment and so childlike the other.

"Let me out," he said softly and she nodded and fished for the key in her pocket. She opened the door and after a long look, he walked away, needing to be alone for a while.

**-----**

Abby watched as Gibbs left the room and smiled to herself.

Thank God it had gone well. She had acted confident and in charge, but it had been just that, an act. There had been a moment, when Gibbs had towered over her, his eyes all stormy, she had had to force herself not to obey him and let him go. But then he had conceded and stepped back, letting her win that match.

Abby had enjoyed washing Gibbs, sticking her hands into his thick fur, feeling it become softer as the dust and the grime were rinsed away. By the time Gibbs had decided he had had enough of it, his fur hadn't be dark grey any longer, but a silver grey, a colour that perfectly complemented his blue eyes.

Abby wondered how Leroy Jethro Gibbs would look like if he was still a man. He had been handsome and boyish looking in the picture she had seen of him, and she was ready to bet he would be just as striking in his early fifties.

She frowned. What had happened to him? He had mentioned a curse and she wondered who would have done that to him, and why?

Despite her liking for esoteric things, Abby was unsettled by the idea somewhere, out there, was someone with the power to turn a man into a beast and sentence him to a life of solitude.

Her heart went out to Gibbs. Her arms ached with the desire to give him one of her famous, or infamous, hugs; and to make his life a little better. She had no idea of how she could do it—but she would find a way. That was a promise.

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This is probably one of my favourite chapters. I hope you enjoyed it too. Please let me know, OK?


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to autumngold for the review. As for your concern, while it's true Gibbs still loves Shannon (or at least the memories he has of her, his only company in the past 18 years), I'm sure there is plenty of room in his heart for Abby too...:)**

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Later that afternoon Gibbs woke from a nap and stretched. He had to admit it felt good to be clean; his fur soft and no longer matted and stuck to his body.

He went down to the kitchen and ate the grilled piece of meat the house had made for him with more gusto than he had in a long time, and then looked for Abby.

He found her in the library – or Stanley's Realm, as the family had jokingly referred to it. His father-in-law had been an avid collector of ancient tomes, first editions and rare titles.

Gibbs sat on his haunches and watched as Abby, after flashing him a smile, kept on perusing the shelves, tilting her head right and left as she checked the titles.

He had always liked to read, but that pleasure had been denied to him since he had been cursed. He had lost count of the books he had ruined before finally accepting the fact he couldn't handle them with his paws.

Abby finished her exploration and walked to stand near him. "I don't think I've ever seen so many books in a private house before. There is some great stuff here, even one of the first essays ever written about ballistic science. Can I read it?" she asked, looking down at him expectantly.

Gibbs nodded. "Of course you can, you can read all the books you want…and watch the TV… or listen to the radio. This is your home now; you can do everything you want."

Abby nodded, still looking at him, her eyes soft. Gibbs had the gut feeling she knew he wasn't able to do any of the things he had mentioned. He knew that she was feeling compassion for him—even if he couldn't understand why she should feel that for him, her captor.

He wasn't even sure he liked to be the object of her compassion, but given the situation, he hadn't the right to complain.

It was just so amazing this strange, charming woman wasn't scared by him but willing to be in his company, he couldn't afford to complain. And then he wondered, by the way, had women's fashion changed so much in eighteen years or was Abby just eccentric in her choice of wardrobe? He was just so damn lucky he had found her…or her him.

**-----**

It hadn't taken long for Abby to find ways to make Gibbs' life a little better. The look of longing in his eyes when he had talked about the books and the TV had told her everything she needed to know.

That was why, two days later, she found herself in the library, reading aloud a first edition of _The Hound of the Baskervilles_. She was sitting on the couch, with Gibbs lying near her, his big, furry head resting on her knees as she scratched his ears now and then.

The first time they had tried it, the very day she had discovered the library, Gibbs had faked nonchalance when she had asked him if he would like if she read the essay on ballistic aloud, but she had seen the eagerness in his eyes.

She had sat on the couch, Gibbs had curled into a circle like a big dog at her feet, ears prickled, as if he didn't want to miss a single word…only to fall asleep a few minutes later, probably bored to death by a topic he was unfamiliar with.

So the next day, Abby had chosen Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's novel, hoping it would be more of Gibbs' liking and she had started reading. This time he hadn't fallen asleep, but he had listened intently, inching closer until his head had rested on her knees.

Abby had liked it and she had started stroking him, hoping he wouldn't be offended if she scratched his ears as she would do with a cat or a dog.

Gibbs had not been offended at all and today, for their third reading session, he had abandoned the floor for the couch. The eagerness in his expressive eyes showed her how much he liked her touch and how much he needed to feel close to someone.

Abby desperately wanted to know why Gibbs had been cursed, but she felt it was still too soon to ask such a personal question. The first times he had been near her, he had been tense, wary, and almost ready to bolt. Now he was starting to relax and she didn't want to ruin the trust growing between them.

If she wanted to go home, and Abby wanted to, she had to play her cards right. Although she planned to return visit Gibbs because she couldn't bear to leave him completely alone.

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So they are getting closer...like it? I hope so. Let me know and remember, reviews make me update faster!


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks for the review to NCISontherocks, Kristenb15 and ****autumngold (Abby was perfect for this story because she is so caring. We've seen it in many episodes. And she does care for him...she wants to go home, but also plans to return to visit Gibbs because she doesn't wish to leave him completely alone again. As for Gibbs, I think he cared for her right from the start, it's just it's so difficult for him to show it. But now he trusts her, and it's a good start for something more...).**

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"Oh gosh, this is sooo unbelievable!

Abby's comment prompted Gibbs to open his eyes and look at the TV to see what had caused the outrage in her voice.

They were watching – well in truth, _she_ was watching, because he was more interested in basking in the caresses his companion so freely bestowed on his head and neck – a TV series called "CSI" or something like that, about a group of detectives in Las Vegas who had just found a drowned man in the middle of the Nevada desert.

"What is it?" he asked, raising his head.

"This show…" Abby gestured with her hands toward the screen, "that forensic procedure is so unbelievable…so wrong. I wonder why the authors didn't document themselves before writing such idiocies!"

"Are you an expert in this stuff?" Gibbs asked, suddenly realizing he knew nothing about Abby.

"Yep, I'm in forensic science and ballistics. I work for NCIS, the Navy Criminal Investigative Service."

That stirred Gibbs' interest, as he remembered the agent who had investigated Shannon and Kelly's murders. He had been a gruff but thoughtful former Marine who had helped him to locate and kill his girls' murderer by leaving a folder lying out. But back then the agency's name had been different...

"Wasn't it called NIS?" He asked looking up at her.

"It was; it changed name in 1992."

"I see. And you work for them…"

"Yep, in Head Quarters located in the Navy Yard. Have you ever been there?"

"Just once…a long time ago. I escorted my CO there...I think he had to testify about something."

"Well, the headquarters hasn't changed much in the past twenty years or so, at least outside. But inside the technology is now top-notch, even if there is always something new I would like to have in my labby."

"Labby?"

"Yep. Abby's lab... labby!" Abby grinned, eyes shining, and Gibbs wished he could be able to respond in the same way.

"You like your job, huh?"

"Yup. It's challenging, interesting, and never boring, even if sometimes it's a bit disturbing. People can be so creative when they want to kill or harm someone. There is no limit to cruelty."

Gibbs nodded in understanding, "Tell me more about your job…about your labby."

Abby stroked his ears as she began, "Well I work for all the agents in the building, but my main "costumers" are the members of the Major Case Response Team, you know the one that deals with real big cases."

He nodded, encouraging her to go on.

"There are four agents in the team. Tim McGee is their computer expert. He's a geek who can hack any database, no matter how secure. He's also a part time writer, and his detective novels are popular. He also likes to play the Elf Lord in on-line games."

Gibbs had no idea of what "hack", "database", and "on-line games" were, but he tried not to let his confusion show in his eyes. He didn't like to show signs of weakness.

"You like him," he stated more than asked.

"A lot. We even dated for a while, but we're better as friends." Abby smiled, "Then there is Tony DiNozzo. He's a former cop and a detective with a great talent for undercover missions. He likes to play the fool, to quote movies and to ogle every woman he sees, but it's just an act. He's really very smart."

Gibbs nodded. DiNozzo reminded him of Patrick Kinley, the young lieutenant he had served with and befriended in Iraq. He briefly wondered what happened to him.

"The third member of the team is Ziva David. She's an Israeli, on loan from Mossad. She's really cool—and deadly. She claims she could kill someone in eighteen different ways using a paperclip—and I believe her. She was very guarded and aloof when she first arrived, but now she has learned to relax…a bit. We're very good friends. And finally there is the Boss, Mike Franks. He's a tough-as-nails ex-Marine, with a rough exterior and good heart. I think you would like him."

"Mike Franks?" Gibbs repeated. "Did he serve in Camp Pendleton during the 90s?"

Abby frowned. "I think he did spend some time in California, but I'm not sure where."

"Then I know him, and you're right—I like him. And Abby, there is no such thing as an ex-Marine. Once a Marine, always a Marine."

Abby giggled and clapped her hands, "You sound exactly like Mike!" Then she sobered and added softly, "You know him 'cause he investigated your wife and daughter's murders, don't you?"

Gibbs raised his head, startled, "How do you know?"

Abby looked at him, her eyes full of sadness, "Sister Rosita of the nunnery down the street told me the story of the Colebrook family…and young Shannon's determination to marry her dashing Marine. She also told me about the tragedies that struck the family, and of the sudden, mysterious disappearance of the only remaining member—you. That's why I came here that day. I was curious—and touched by what I had heard."

He nodded with his head, not trusting his voice, utterly moved by the compassion and the care in her voice. They stared at each other for a while, and then Abby smiled.

"I still have to tell you about the last member of Team Franks. Well, in truth he's an unofficial member like me, since he works for other agents too. He's our ME. His name is Dr. Donald Mallard but almost everyone call him Ducky."

"Ducky?"

"Yep. In the beginning I thought it was a reference to Donald Duck, the Disney character, but then I learned the mallard is a type of duck."

"A locomotive too," Gibbs added, remembering one of his toy trains.

"Yeah, that too. Ducky would be happy to hear you know about it. He's Scottish, eccentric, very cultured, and always ready to launch himself into an elaborate story-telling. He's a true, old-fashioned gentleman."

"Sounds like an interesting guy."

"He is. And finally, there is Bert, my hippo."

"Your what?"

"My hippo. My farting hippo," Abby confirmed, looking deadly serious.

"Your farting hippo?" Gibbs repeated, unable to accept he had heard right.

"Yep. He's not a real hippo, of course, just a plush toy one that farts when I squeeze him, but he has the power to make me smile when I feel down."

"I see…" he said, still perplexed and wondering what her colleagues thought of "Bert".

"Oh! Look!" Abby exclaimed excited, reaching for the remote, "They're airing "Murder She Wrote". It has been ages since I watched an episode. Do you mind…?"

"No, of course," Gibbs answered, "I like it too."

He waited until Abby settled more comfortably on the couch, then lowered his head on her knees and let himself be dragged into one of Jessica Fletcher's investigations.

**-----**

That night in bed Abby awoke with a start when a loud thunder made the glass of her window rattle. The thunder was soon followed by the noise of pouring rain hitting the roof and the walls of the house, and by the hiss of the wind blowing through the tree branches.

Abby knew that as an adult and a scientist atop of it, she shouldn't be afraid of thunderstorms, not when tucked safely in a warm bed, with a good roof over her head.

However, irrational fears were just that – irrational – and Abby was scared by thunderstorms, especially when they were so violent and loud.

Had she been home, she would have embraced Bert and buried her nose against him as she waited for the storm to cease. Here, in this big house, there was no Bert to hug, but perhaps Gibbs would let her embrace him. Or, at least, he would allow her to stay with him, even without the hugging part.

Abby left her room and, as the storm continued, she walked along the corridor until she reached Gibbs' bedchamber. She opened the door and looked inside. In the dim light caused by the lightning, she saw he was on the bed, curled into a circle atop the covers. He was asleep but woke up at once as she softly called his name.

"Abby?" he asked, raising his head. "Is something wrong? Are you unwell?"

"No…just scared by the storm. Can I sleep here with you? Please?" she used her best puppy eyes on him.

Gibbs stared at her for a few moments, and then nodded. He scooted onto the right side of the bed and patted the covers at his left, "Come here."

Abby smiled, and quickly crossed the room. She lost no time in slipping between the warm sheets which smelled like Gibbs, a strange but pleasant combination of his musk and the soap she used to wash him.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Very. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Abby watched as Gibbs lay on his side, his back to her, his head on the pillow and his legs stretched in front of him. It was a good thing the bed was king-sized, because he took a lot of room.

She closed her eyes and was about to relax when another loud clap of thunder startled her. Without thinking, she scooted over and pressed her body against Gibbs' back, his comforting warmth reaching her, even with the heavy quilt separating them. His gentle snoring had begun to lull Abby into a sleep, so she rolled over to press a kiss against Gibbs' cheek…and then let sleep envelop her, the storm still raging outside completely forgotten.

--------

This is another of my favourite chapters and I hope you enjoyed it too. Let me know, OK?

Also, originally the thunderstorm scene was longer and well...much more adult themed. However, a thoughful friend made me realize that not everyone probably saw Gibbs as I saw him -- A MAN who had just lost his human appearance, but still a man, not an animal -- thus, to avoid to upset anyone, we decided to tone this scene down. However, the original version will be posted on my Live Journal (along with this one), so should someone being intested in reading it, let me know in your review and, as soon as the story is up, I'll send you the link.


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for their reviews to:

-dolphinsiren (sign your review, so I can reply and send you the link! *grins*)

-autumngold (Gibbs has not been touched for the past 18 years, so there is no wonder he's more interested in her caresses than in the TV. I can't send you the link because your reviews aren't signed. I'm trying to find a way to insert it somewhere everyone can have access to).

-Kristenb15 (you already know where to read the other version. The links to both versions of part two are already up, but the posts are private ATM. I'll make them public after I post the last chapter here.

-horseninja (I don't really think this would have worked with Ziva or Jen. With Ziva it would have ended in a bloodbath. As for Jenny, I can't really see her break into an abandoned house...This story was Abby And The Gibbs right from the start. To me, it had to be Abby.)

* * *

**-----**

The following week was one of the most beautiful of Leroy Jethro Gibbs' life, and certainly the happiest since he had been cursed. More and more Gibbs was able to open up to his new friend and long buried hurts seemed to begin to heal.

The days, which had seemed interminable before Abby's arrival, were now filled with activities, conversations, laughs, and joy.

They ate together and Abby always poured into a bowl some of the food the house prepared for her so that, after eighteen years spent eating only meat, he rediscovered the taste of pasta, soup, chilli, salad, even pizza and ice-cream.

They explored the house from basement to roof, strolled side by side in the park in the back of the building, and the things and places he knew so well became new again as he looked at them with her curious eyes.

In the evenings, they cuddled on the divan, while she read for him or watched TV or Abby told him bit and pieces of what had happened in the world during the past eighteen years.

Gibbs realized soon he was falling in love. He remembered the signs from his time with Shannon and just like in the past he willingly surrendered to those feelings and the desires they stirred. However, while in a different time, in a different life, his inability to kiss, touch and possess Abby would have driven him mad, in this reality, he was content to simply bask in the affection she so easily bestowed on him. He liked it so much when she hugged his neck, and his previously numb heart swelled with emotion every time she kissed his cheek.

**-----**

But perfection seldom exists for long and after almost two weeks since her arrival, Gibbs noticed Abby wasn't happy, or at least, not completely.

One evening, as they watched the TV news, Abby stiffened upon hearing NCIS being mentioned in a report. Looking up at her, Gibbs saw her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

It was like a blow to the stomach for him and he berated himself for not seeing it sooner.

Abby missed her life. She missed her job. She missed her friends. No matter how happy she was with him – and Gibbs knew she was – the life he could give her was not enough. Would never been enough—and he had known it from the start.

She could never really be happy living as a _prisoner_ in the property with him, but taken as he had been by his own contentment, he hadn't seen it—or more likely, he had chosen to ignore the signs.

He was responsible of her unhappiness—but not for much longer.

He loved her too much, cared for her too much to cause her more pain, to force her to live like a hermit with a half-beast, half-man as her only company, away from her "labby", her friends, and the bowling nuns.

He had survived for eighteen years with just his memories of Shannon and Kelly. Now, with a bit of luck, his memories of Abby would help him to survive for the rest of his life.

**-----**

The next morning, after breakfast, Gibbs led Abby into a barrack hidden between the trees, the only place they had not yet explored together.

"This has always been my hiding place," he explained as he opened the door. "That," he said, pointing to the unfinished hull of his wooden boat, "I was building using only hand tools, my way to relax after a hard day on the job."

Abby nodded as she ran her hand along the ribs of the boat, along the grain Gibbs' thick paw pads could no longer feel.

He then walked to the shelves and workbenches that lay along the opposite wall and indicated a series of wooden figurines shaped as animals or objects. "These instead are carvings I've made using my claws, one of my few pastimes since I've been cursed."

Abby sat on one of the workbenches and looked at him, "Why have you been cursed?"

Gibbs sighed as he sat by her side, before starting to talk, "When I returned here after Shannon and Kelly's deaths, I was almost out of my mind with pain. I got drunk almost every night and I even thought of killing myself. When the desperation receded, anger took its place, and I became quite an ogre for the children in this neighbourhood. I couldn't bear to hear them laughing and playing knowing my daughter was dead."

Abby just nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"The people who had been sympathetic, began to give me a wide berth, but I liked my loneliness…encouraged it. Then one evening, an old woman, a gypsy I think, arrived at the mansion, seeking shelter from a thunderstorm. She offered me a rose, a yellow one…Shannon and Kelly's favourite flower. I don't know what happened in me…but I couldn't bear to see that old woman with her rose inside the house, while my girls were dead and buried, knowing they would never smell roses again or grow to be old like that woman…So I turned her away. The woman offered the rose again, but I refused. And then she pushed the flower under my nose and looking into my eyes, she cursed me, saying I would never be free until I could learn to love, and was loved in return."

Abby sniffled, and hugged him, burying her nose in his neck. "It seems to me as if you loved too much, not too little."

Gibbs nodded, "Yeah…" he said, his voice rough with emotion.

Abby brushed her eyes and commented, "That gypsy was powerful, but she wasn't wise. I just hope she didn't condemn any other poor soul to your fate."

Gibbs sighed again, walked to the shelves, where he picked up one of his carvings.

He looked at Abby, still sitting to the bench, and nodded to himself.

It was time to do what he knew was right.

"Come," he said, moving to the door, "let's take a stroll."

Abby followed him and together they walked along the driveway, toward the main gate. Gibbs was ready to spring and take cover should he hear any noise coming from the street, but it was early on Sunday morning, and the sparse neighbourhood was still asleep.

When they were almost in sight of the gate, he said, "Here, take this," and gave the wooden hippo he had carved to Abby.

She turned it in her hands as she studied it and Gibbs commented lightly, even if his heart was feeling very heavy, "I'm sorry he is solid wood and doesn't fart, but I hope Bert won't mind."

Abby looked at him strangely as they continued their walk toward the gate and he hastened to add, "Oh, I don't want it to replace Bert. I just thought they could be friends." Gibbs swallowed hard as he said gently, "Take it to your lab and think of me when you look at it."

Abby stared at him, stunned, "What do you mean?"

"That it's time you return home, Abby, to your job, your friends, and the nuns." Gibbs opened the gate and used his greater body power to back her toward it. "I love you too much to keep you prisoner any longer; to keep you away from the people and the things that make you happy."

"But I'm happy here!" Abby protested, starting to resist his pushing. But he was too strong for her and despite her resistance he managed to push her out in the street and close the gate.

"That's not true, Abby," he murmured. "I saw you yesterday evening. I saw your tears when the TV mentioned NCIS. Don't try to deny it."

"Yes, but I-"

"Shh, Abby. There is nothing else to say. I love you and I can't condemn you to share this life with me. You deserve so much more. Now go. Be happy. Find a good man, have kids…and think of me now and then, if you want. As for myself, I won't ever forget you and these days we spent together. _Semper Fi_, Abby."

Speaking thus, Gibbs dropped to his four legs and ran away as fast as he could, ignoring her pleading voice as she begged him to come back, not to do this, to talk with her…

He ran across the extensive park until his legs shook with exhaustion and his lungs burned for the lack of oxygen, and then he collapsed. He buried his face into the grass where he used the only mean of human relief blessedly left to him.

He cried.

* * *

So, what do you think? *ducks to avoid shoes thrown in her directions* Let me know!

Remember, eviews make me update faster....


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks to autumngold for your review: yes, Gibbs should have talked with Abby, but we know how Gibbs is. Once he makes his mind, his mind is made.**

**-----**

Abby switched off the Major Mass Spec and looked at her lab. She had always been happy there, even when Ari had shot at her or her psycho ex-boyfriend had spied on her, but since her return from "vacation", the place had failed to raise her spirits.

Five days had elapsed since Gibbs had pushed her out of his house and his life. Five nights she had fallen asleep very late, crying, after having spent hours after work, trying in vain to get back inside Colebrook Manor.

Why had Gibbs sent her away?

'_Cause he wanted you to be happy, dummy,_ a voice reminded her.

But she wasn't happy.

True, she had missed the outside world while locked inside the manor, but now she missed Gibbs more.

"Why did you send me away without letting me talk?" she asked aloud in the empty lab. "I love you and we could have made it work. We could have found a solution." Abby caressed the hippo Gibbs had given her. The sculpture was very unrefined, but it was full of beauty. "It wouldn't have been easy, I know, but we could have found a compromise…"

"With whom could you have found a compromise?"

Ziva's voice made Abby whirl around. Her friend was standing by the door, her head slightly tilted as she looked at her with a worried expression, "With the man who broke your heart?"

"How do you know?" Abby asked in a small voice.

Ziva walked inside the lab and replied, "It was not too difficult. No blaring music. The Caf-Pow!s are left untouched. You did not eat the chocolate cupcake I brought you. And you keep staring at that hippo, that while being original in the design, is not a work of art, so it must have some meaning for you."

Abby pouted, "He _IS_ beautiful!"

Ziva raised her hands in a pacifying gesture. "Okay. So, did you meet someone on vacation?"

Abby nodded.

"Someone important, yes?"

"Very important. The most important. I love him, Ziva."

"You loved others too…Mikel, Marty…" her friend added delicately, as if she tried to remind Abby her past loves had been very brief.

"Yes, I know and you're right. But this time I didn't fall in love with his looks or his job…I fell in love with him, with whom he is inside, and I feel there will be no one else for me. Not after him—and not after he said he loved me…loved me so much to let me go so I could be happy…"

Ziva's brown eyes were full of sympathy as she asked, "What didn't work out?"

"He lives…a very different life from mine and he thinks… thought…I would have to abandon my life to live with him, and that in the end I wouldn't be happy, not really happy…which would be true. I love what I do very much. But if he had just left me the chance to speak about this, we could have tried to find a solution. But he made a decision and I don't know what I can do to make him change his mind…" Abby stopped her tirade, swallowing the lump in her throat. She didn't wish to cry again.

"Listen," Ziva said, taking a step closer, "Franks said we can leave early, so why don't you come with me? I'll cook that soup you like so much and then we will watch one of the horror movies you gave me at Christmas. And then, when you feel better, we'll talk about your man and find a way to make him see reason. What do you think?"

Abby nodded, first hesitantly, then with more conviction. It was just what she needed. "May I take Jet with me?" she asked, pointing at the wooden hippo.

"Of course," Ziva smiled.

Abby removed her white garb, grabbed her purse, put Jet inside it and walked into the elevator with Ziva. Once the doors opened in the squad room, she saw Tim and Tony were busy tidying their desks, while Mike was standing and talking to another man, whose back was turned toward her. A tall, lean guy, whose expensive looking light-grey suit was a perfect match for his short, silver hair.

Mike noticed them stepping out of the elevator and smiled, "Hey, girls, come and meet one man who would have made a damn good agent if he didn't have a multi-million company to direct."

The two women approached, curious to see the guy Mike had praised, but when man turned around, Abby froze in mid-step.

His face was lined, still boyish looking, even if his features were sharper, weathered. His hair was grey and no longer brown, but the eyes…they were still the same. The eyes of the proud father pictured in the photo in the music room. The eyes of the beast…of the man beneath the beast…Abby had come to love.

She saw the eyes of the man that had haunted her memory every moment of the past five days since he had sent her away.

"Gibbs…" she whispered shocked, knowing it was him, but still not understanding how it was possible he was standing there, back into his human appearance—his very handsome human appearance.

"Abby," he answered, his voice a low drawl that made her knees go weak, as his eyes looked at her as if he was a desert traveller and she a fountain of fresh water.

"Gibbs!" she repeated, letting her joy spring free. He was really there, in the flesh. He wasn't a dream or a hallucination—and he was there for her! Abby squealed in delight and ran as fast as it was possible with her platform boots toward him.

Gibbs opened his arms and they embraced, holding each other as tight as possible. Abby buried her nose into his neck, smelling the scent she had become familiar with. It was less strong and mixed with his aftershave, but he still smelled as the man she had been falling in love with during their time together.

They hugged for a long time, and then they stepped back from each other. Abby was aware of the curious and surprised looks they were receiving, but in that moment only Gibbs and her existed.

"When did it happen?" Abby asked, gesturing vaguely at him.

"Five days ago."

"Five?! And why did you waited so long to come here?!"

"Because I needed time to be presentable again; time to get a haircut, shave and uhm...clothes," he said as he motioned over himself. "I had to re-learn to walk only on my feet and to eat with a fork and knife. I also wanted the manor to be beautiful again." Gibbs paused a moment then asked huskily, "Will you come to live with me? The house has been restored to its former splendour. It's airy, sunny, clean…The household and I are ready to satisfy your every wish…and I'll even build you a lab if you want…"

Abby felt tears spring in her eyes. "I don't need all that stuff," she murmured as she fingered his expensive suit. "I would have lived with you as you were, in that dusty house. I just wanted to be with you. I love you."

"As I love you."

"I would have given up all of this for you," she murmured, gesturing at the room around her.

"I know—that's why I couldn't let you do it."

"But I did want to…" Abby whispered.

"Yep…" Gibbs answered with a smile, before sobering as his eyes became very intense. "Selfless love…it broke the curse. I went to bed Sunday night as a beast and woke up a man again…and now, finally, I can do this…" he bent his head and kissed her for the first time.

Abby melted under his touch, under his lips. Boy, if he was like this now, after being out of practice for eighteen years, she had no idea of how she would survive when all of his skills returned to him…

They kept on kissing, uncaring of their audience, until someone, Abby couldn't say who, probably Mike, cleared their throat.

They separated and looked at each other. Gibbs seemed a bit embarrassed – Abby thought he wasn't probably the kind of man who enjoyed PDA's—and his cheeks were adorably flushed.

"Let's go?" he asked her. "I would like some privacy…your friends here are almost hitting the floor with their open mouths…" he tilted his head toward Tony and Tim, who weren't doing anything to conceal their shock.

"Yes, me too." Abby turned to look apologetically at Ziva.

"Ziva…"

"Go Abby, I had already understood we would not watch that horror movie this evening," the Israeli answered with a wink.

Gibbs turned to look at Mike, who barked out a laugh and went to slap the other man's back. "Go Gunny, I knew you hadn't come here after so many years just to talk with old me."

Gibbs smiled at Abby and mouthed, "Let's go?"

She nodded eagerly, looking forward to being alone with him.

He put an arm around her shoulders, she wrapped her own around his waist and they started walking toward the elevator—toward their future together.

THE END

* * *

OK, this story is ended. It was a great fun to write it, and I've been blown away by how the number of readers increased along the way. I wish to thank all the people who took the time to review; I hope you had a lot of fun with this too.

The link to my LIve Journal and the M version of this story is in my profile. I would love if you could tell me what you think of it, if you drop by and read it. I accept anonymous comments, so you don't need to have a LJ account to review. Just sign the review with your FFnet nickname, so I'll know who you are.

And speaking of reviews, I would love if this baby reached the 100 review mark...:)

Buon Natale e Felice 2010 to everyone!


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